Sauron's Night Before Christmas
by Spoofmaster
Summary: A Christmas poem. Sauron, unhappy that others are enjoying the holiday, goes around giving everyone poo to dampen their spirits. PG for references to poo. Semicontinuity with my parody and the parody that Frotu used to have up.


Okay...well, this may not make a ton of sense to most people.

The concept of Sauron being into poo jokes and going "Haha...haha" when he laughs about poo comes from Gollumrox and Frotu, both of whom are writers you should go look up. The idea for this popped into my mind a while before Christmas, but I didn't get a chance to actually write it until after the holiday.

This has some continuity and jokes from my ongoing parody of LotR, which will hopefully be apparent to some of my readers.

Erm...well, I don't own anything, except a few obviously made-up names.

Sauron's Night Before Christmas

'Twas the night before Christmas,

And all 'cross the land

Everywhere was silent

From the trees to the sand.

The Valar were resting,

The Maiar asleep.

There was peace all around

'Cept down in one keep.

Mordor's lord was unhappy—

Not that this was new—

But more so than usual

And his anger just grew.

Sauron hated this evening

And the morning to come.

He thought the creatures of Light

Had much too much fun.

Every chance that they got

They would party away,

Singing and laughing

All through the bright day.

But what could this blackguard

Do to prevent it?

Christmas cheer was quite sturdy—

How could he dent it?

Up above, Santa flew,

Drawn on by his deer.

He shook his head sadly—

Only naughty things here!

He flew on and left there,

Off over the snow

The sound of his sleigh bells

Reaching Sauron below.

Inspiration struck Sauron

As Santa moved past.

He knew how to hurt them!

A good plan at last!

He'd build his equipment,

Then, oh what he'd do!

He'd fly to their houses

And give them all poo!

He needed to hurry

To set up his sleigh

But once he had reindeer,

Why then they'd all pay!

He cobbled together

A sleigh that was thrifty.

It was extremely mismatched

But it was still nifty.

But what creatures would pull it?

He had no reindeer.

Then he thought to himself,

"There's flyers right here!"

The nine screeching Nazgul,

Those masters of fright—

Each one missed his steed

On that cold winter night.

Sauron lined up the beasts

And harnessed them all.

He climbed in his sleigh

And started his call:

"On Thomas and Studemeyer,

On Frankie and Ted!

On Stinky and Sammi,

And even you, Fred!

"Go Dashell, you moron,

Pull with your weight!

And Johnny, the leader,

Be mighty, be great!"

Powerfully, mightily,

Straining, they rose

Up higher and higher,

Where Thorondor goes.

Sauron flew over mountains,

Over to Gondor.

Oh, if they only knew

What he had in store!

Faramir, first on the list,

Was peacefully dreaming.

Sauron slipped through his room,

Kept with his scheming.

Little did Faramir know

Of Sauron's great guile.

Nor did he, snoring, yet know

Of that small, smelly pile.

The father and brother

Were next on the list.

Sauron left each a bundle

And a fine, stinking mist.

In each soldier's bedroom

More "gifts" were placed.

Then, done with his evil,

The Eye left with haste.

Once more the sleigh was dragged up

Into the dark skies.

Sauron wondered to himself

Where else to leave "pies."

He settled on Rohan

And flew there with glee.

After tonight they'd respect

One clever as he!

They clattered down loudly

On Meduseld's roof.

Johnny's claw clicked on shingles

Instead of Rudolph's light hoof.

Sauron slipped down the chimney

And went right to work.

He left lots of messes

And was really a jerk.

All Eowyn, Eomer,

Theoden and son,

Even Forky fell victim

To Sauron's mean fun.

Done leaving unwelcome things,

Sauron hastened to leave.

He had a long way to go

On this one Christmas Eve.

All across Middle-Earth,

All through the nights,

The pace was kept up

'Till the first morning light.

At last, in the morning,

Weary and sore,

They all headed back home,

Too tired for more.

Satisfied, Sauron sat back

And thought to himself,

How none had escaped him,

Not even one Elf.

Before reaching Mordor,

He wanted to sing.

To belt out a verse

And show he was king.

In the air above Gondor,

He gave it a go:

"Merry Christmas from Mordor!

Ho ho…ho ho!"

Back in his citadel,

Sauron waited, so smug

For when they'd all wake up and smell it,

And then all cry, "UG!"

Light crept over the mountains

From Arien's fire,

Waking the tall and the small

From Rohan to Shire.

The hobbits were nonplussed

By Sauron's brown curse.

They were annoyed, but let's face it—

They'd all stepped in worse.

The Elves were offended

But too joyous to care.

They had too much to do

To mind it was there.

The ents never noticed,

Or at least did not care.

Such refuse was normal

In a forest lair.

Aragorn got some poo in his hair,

But no one could tell.

He was always so filthy

There was no change in smell.

Regardless of origin

Everyone everywhere

Found poo in their bedroom

But just did not care.

Sauron's dismay was quite great

When they still had joy.

Such work he had gone to

To form that great ploy!

"Everyone, naughty or nice,

The tall and the small,

Each got poo in their houses,

I got to them all!

"Why are they not crying?

How can this be?"

Sauron frothed to himself

For he could not see.

The Elves, Men, and Hobbits

Knew a thing he did not:

Christmas meant very much more

Than the poo they had got.

If Sauron weren't Sauron,

He'd have learned from all this.

But this lesson, lost on him,

Was simply dismissed.

He was no reformed Scrooge,

And his heart did not grow.

His intentions stayed icy

As the white winter snow.

He did not lighten up

Or join in a feast,

And he certainly never

Carved the roast beast!

So, as all the world 'round him

Celebrated the more,

Sauron just pined for his Ring

And readied for war.


End file.
